


Taste of Humanity

by RightInTheOvaries



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward, Bottom Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Smut, Top Castiel, destiel smut, slightly OOC Dean, stuck together, yes its like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightInTheOvaries/pseuds/RightInTheOvaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with sex. With sex comes awkward silence, and awkward silence leads to an onslaught of emotions no one asked for. Feelings intertwine themselves into the situation, catapulting the boys straight to a step neither of them know if they're ready to take.</p><p>Castiel doesn't think he can handle a chunk of human desire. Dean Winchester and crappy cabin in Nowhere, Alabama may be able to prove him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> The title may change. The plot may change. The chapters may change. You guys, this is my first smut and I've been very bipolar about it. This a testing the waters kind of thing for me. Don't go easy on me because it's my first time with all this stuff. Rip my piece to shreds if it means improving my writing.
> 
> Disclaimer for the entire story: I own nothing except the plot. No profit is being made. This is for pure entertainment purposes only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm rebooting this story, plain and simple. Taste of Humanity will be updated on Thursdays while Summer Lovin' will be updated on Sundays (if you haven't checked it out, make sure you do! It's a new WIP).
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot belongs to me.

It started with sex.

They’d been holed up in some dumpy cabin near the Alabama/Georgia border for three weeks with nothing to do but watch crappy television shows, bicker about every little thing, and simply stare at each other because what the hell? It's not like there was anything better to occupy their time.

Dean had been lying on the patched-up couch (which was on the verge of collapsing), flipping through channels and groaning at the lack of entertainment. Castiel was sitting quietly next to his companion, back rigid and eyes directed at the television screen. This was business as usual, as Sam had yet to text them the damn coordinates for the nest.

When Dean gave up on finding a decent show and snapped his finger down on the power button, Castiel turned his head to look at him. The angel was used to waiting for extremely long periods, had way more experience than Dean when it came to this kind of situation, often escaping into his mind to contemplate and pray to pass the time. However, the bored man laying next to him was distracting Castiel from doing any such thing. It was extremely hard to ignore the sexual frustration rolling off Dean in waves, especially since he wasn't exactly subtle about it. Many a time did Dean casually remind Cas that the last time he picked up a hot chick in a bar was a good two months before.

"I can't believe we're not allowed to leave this shit hole," Dean complained, throwing his legs over Cas' lap. "And for what? A small nest of frigging vampire wimps?"

Castiel decided to leave out the fact that _Dean_ was stuck here, while he was free to come and go as pleased. "Sam assured us that the leader would know where-"

"Damn what Sam said!" Dean interrupted. "I bet he's off lounging in some air-conditioned room with wi-fi while we're trapped in a cabin with no electricity, good food, or women."

They had been in way worse situations, and Cas knew Dean was only ranting because of the sheer amount of _nothing_ to do. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little affronted on the younger Winchester's behalf, if only because he wasn't there to defend himself.

"I'm sure Sam is doing everything in his power to get us the coordinates as fast as he can," Cas assured. "It's not like he wants us to suffer."

Dean mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like "bet he does", but Cas dropped the subject, and so did Dean.

*****

Three hours later and they were still on the couch, but this time in a different arrangement. Cas' head now rested on Dean's lap, while the hunter relaxed into the top cushion behind him, right hand just centimeters away from the angel's hair. This new position was the result of a brief wrestling match, in which Dean was desperate to catch the last half hour of Casablanca but Cas insisted the watch Wile E. Coyote get tricked into running off a cliff.

They had fought for possession of the remote, Dean having the upper hand for some time before Cas decided enough was enough and flipped them over. Pinned down, practically paralyzed under the fucking strong grip, and perhaps a little hard, Dean surrendered almost instantly. Cas had helped Dean sit up after claiming victory, then twisted his body to retrieve the remote that had been thrown in between two lower couch cushions. Whether it was a slip of his arm or his leg, Castiel wasn’t sure, but it sent him crashing backwards into Dean's leg. Dean laughed at the stunned expression on his best friend's face and reached over to wiggle the remote out.

Two episodes later saw Dean out like a light and Cas with a dopey grin on his face. They didn't really know what day Sam was going to contact them with the coordinates, and so Cas muffled his chuckles at the silly cartoon antics the best he could so Dean save up all his energy in case that day was tomorrow. Besides, he was actually quite comfortable where he was and didn't want Dean to wake up and trod off to the bedroom. It was best to let him sleep on.

Somewhere in the middle of Bugs Bunny (whose name Cas still didn't understand) and Daffy Duck's argument of which hunting season it was, Castiel heard a low, rumbling groan. He immediately shot up, expecting to see an uninvited visitor in the room when he checked. However, there was nothing of the sort, confusing Heaven's poster boy to no end. It wasn't until the deep noise sounded again, this time obviously escaping Dean's lips, did Castiel _know_. Already, sweat rivulets began to flow down Dean's flushed face, his breath coming out in short pants. Castiel let his eyes slowly move down the hunter's body, not even bothering to pretend he wasn't staring at the tan hand rubbing over the other man's crotch. Dean shuddered at the contact, rutting into his palm through his jeans.

Castiel felt dirty watching his friend slowly pleasure himself. There was no set rhythm, Dean's mind clearly left behind in the dream realm while his body took matters into its own hands. Instead of tearing his gaze away, Castiel only gaped, a torrent of burning desire ripping through his stomach and all the way down to his mildly interested dick. Sure, he had experienced arousal before this moment, but it never felt as heavy, didn't ache as much as it did now.

It took a minute for the realization that _this was Dean, this was private,_ to smack him in the face. The angel shook himself out of his lusty stupor, wiping off the dribble of drool that was threatening to leak down his chin on the back of his trench coat. Despite every atom in his body begging him to just sit down and watch, Castiel reached out to wake Dean up.

It took a few hard shakes to coax a reaction out of the man, his eyelids sliding up to half-mast as he was welcomed back into the real world. This, by no means, meant he ceased his grapple for friction against the bulge in his pants. Instead, Dean quickened his motions, much to the frustration of Cas. The raven haired angel flicked Dean right between his eyes, eliciting only a small whine of displeasure.

Castiel sighed. "Dean, please, you need to - mmf."

Castiel's arms flailed around him uselessly as Dean yanked him forwards. They were forehead to forehead, impossibly blue eyes staring into beautiful green ones. Dean made the first move, capturing Cas' bottom lip in between his own and sucking hard. Castiel moaned, the rough attention going straight to his cock. Dean smiled into the lip lock and swiped his tongue across the abused skin, Cas' mouth falling open without any qualms.

It was hot, intense, barely even a kiss, with Cas' hands on each side of Dean's cheeks while Dean's fingers knotted themselves in his angel's hair. Their mouths were wide open, tongues stabbing and tangling in a furious frenzy. Saliva dripped down and moans cut through the air, neither of the them knowing what belonged to who but just needing more. They were pushing against each other in a fight for dominance, hips clashing in a random and delicious pace. Dean won, shoving Castiel onto his back and catching him completely off guard. Cas raised an eyebrow, but Dean merely straddled himself on his hips as a reply. He pressed his weight down enough so that Cas couldn't jerk up.

"You have no idea how infuriating you are," Dean muttered, leaning down to nip at Cas' neck. "I couldn't have been more obvious, and yet you still had no clue what the hell I was talking about."

"Obvious? Y-You only talked about not having sexual contact…” Castiel trailed off as the information hit him, gasped as Dean bit down on his pulse point.

With an infuriatingly slow roll of his hips, Dean growled, "Exactly."

In twenty seconds flat, Castiel was out of his trench coat, suit jacket, and trousers, the moving on to help Dean remove his clothing. Pants were shoved to the floor in a heap without a care as to where they landed. Dean attempted to unbutton Castiel's shirt one by one, but it took way too damn long so he tore it right down the center, buttons flying everywhere. Castiel didn't show any signs of caring as Dean ruined shirt, just whimpering at the loss of flesh contact. When the white piece of fabric was out of the way, Dean ripped off his own t-shirt in one slick motion before slamming his head down to meet Cas in the middle.

The kiss was even sloppier than before. It didn’t matter because it felt so good and hell, why stop? Dean tugged the messy locks attached to Castiel’s scalp, delighted at the deep-throated moan it caused and filing it away for later use. Not to be outdone, Castiel broke away and licked a stripe behind Dean’s left ear, knowing from a previous rendezvous in the man’s mind that it drove him insane.

Whatever rhythm previously started was lost. They thrust against each other fast, filthy, getting closer and closer to completion by the second. Teeth bit at collarbones, fingernails scraped at flesh. It was too much, _too much_ , and it didn’t matter that had only been a couple of minutes, Castiel was teetering over the edge-

But then Dean suddenly whispered, "Gonna fuck you next time," and his body stilled.

It took Dean a few moments for this to get through to his sex hazed mind. He paused and looked down with confusion etched across his features. The angel studied the taller of the two for a moment, taking in the clouded eyes, his flushed face, the short puffs of breath hitting his face, the absolute **_beauty_** of it all.

Castiel flipped them over.

It took even less strength then when he did this during the wrestling match. Castiel flashed him a shit-eating smile, but Dean couldn’t do anything but look shocked out if his wits.  Cas suckled on Dean’s earlobe then, a smirk growing at the shivers that danced through Dean's body. He kept his mouth close to Dean's ear, breath ticking the skin there.

"If there's anyone getting fucked next time, it's _you_ , Dean Winchester." Castiel dipped a hand beneath Dean's boxers as he whispered, taking the blonde's dick into his hand.

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ."

A few quick pumps and Dean was gone. Gone, gone, gone, sailing way over the clouds. His eyes rolled to the back of his head in euphoria, spurting white strings onto Cas' hand and even on his stomach as he came, screaming all the while. Dean barely acknowledged Cas jerking his hips against his thigh, panting and grunting his way through orgasm.

It had been rather rushed, slightly painful, and absolutely perfect.

They didn't move when it was all done, only waited for the crash that awaited them at the end of the high. The two were a sticky mess, sweat and come cooling even in the humid air surrounding them.

Cas was the first to come down, muttering into Dean's neck, "Don't blaspheme."

Dean chuckled under his breath and caught Cas' lips in a slow kiss unlike the ones they had shared only minutes before. Their teeth didn't clank together and their tongues intertwined gently, their bruised lips too sore for anything further. It didn't take long for the human to succumb to slumber, snuggling into Castiel's side and leaving the angel to think about what he had just done.

*****  
Castiel untangled himself from Dean at the first ray of sunlight that peaked in through the window. Dean groaned in his sleep, reaching out to find Castiel and pull him close again. It was a sight that tugged at Cas' heart, but he needed some time alone to clear his thoughts. After stealing the comforter from the bed and throwing it over Dean, Castiel disappeared.

He flew to a small pond a few kilometers away so that there was a very slim chance Dean would find him. There, Castiel took off his shoes and thick socks so that he could let his feet splash in the water while he thought about everything that needed a long contemplation. He wasn’t really bothered by something so insignificant as soaked shoes, but it was a pleasurable to feel water whisk through his toes in the background.

It made him feel better to pray and ask questions of his Father, even though He never responded. It was therapeutic in a way, letting out all of his feelings and thoughts and pretending somebody actually heard him.

It had been a while since he last sat down and pondered, so it would be while before his mind was cleared.

*****

When Castiel returned, Dean was half-heartedly looking for a show to watch. Despite his best efforts, it was impossible to silence the flutter of wings that announced Castiel’s arrival. Dean peeked over the couch and into the kitchen at the sound, a small grin forming on his lips.

“I was wondering if you were gonna come back,” Dean stated, swinging his legs off the couch. “Let me help you with those.”

Together they unpacked the two paper bags of groceries Cas brought back with him and put everything inside old wooden cabinets. A comfortable silence fell over them as they worked, a wistful smile never leaving Dean’s face. It was a quick ordeal, and when they were finished Castiel crumpled the bags and threw them into the plastic garbage pail that sat near  the door that separated the stuffy kitchen and tiny living room. He did not dare attempt to make eye contact.

“Listen, Cas,” Dean tried, stopping when Cas stiffened.

“Dean, I don't think it would be good idea…” Cas let the sentence hang in the air at the raise of Dean’s hand.

“Say no more. We don’t have to talk about it,” Dean said. “Nada. Zip.”

Cas sighed in what appeared to be relief. He turned around on his heel to face Dean, his mouth opening and closing a few times, as if he couldn’t quite decide what he wanted to say. Castiel shook his head after a few seconds of trying and, once more, flew away without an explanation for his friend.


End file.
